Of Tangled Webs and Spider Parlours
by Carkins Bug
Summary: When the forces of alcohol, loneliness and insanity collide, you find yourself dancing around a spiders web. An AU fic from the POV of Chakotay based on "The Bride of Chaotica", featuring Janeway, Paris and Torres. A humour tale of mystery and bad days.
1. Chapter 1

**Authors Notes** : Tis I once more riding forth in an ill-fated attempt to do something between the time I spend eating jammy dodger biscuits and playing far more Skyrim than is really necessary.

I know it's been a while and I had every intention of uploading a lot more fics that are still gathering dust in my files, but a lot of them need rewriting and reworking and requires more time than previously estimated. A lot of them are ST:Voy but some are BSG and I'm not sure if anyone's interested in reading most of them but they definitely need some time rise like a good sponge cake. Most of my spare time is spent being, quite frankly, very unwell and there can be large gaps of time where I'm unable to accomplish anything resembling sense, when I do have good days I spend a lot of time with my significant other, my cat and my videogames, in between my hobby of editing videos, so I'm sorry I don't have more to read and there seems to be a long waiting period for new fiction, but I promise you I will keep at it.

Again I'm bringing you lovely people a Chakotay POV fic, A/U based around The Bride Of Chaotica, one of my favourite episodes. Includes references to "Thirty Days" and "Scorpion" As usual the style is from the POV of Chakotay's thoughts and therefore it can be a winding path of messy overgrown shrubbery that makes it difficult to follow, for that I apologise and also for my complete lack of writing skills that are surviving on will power and tenacity alone at this point. I know my grammar, structure and formatting are completely awful and just know that I'm incredibly grateful to all and any who venture through one of my confusing fics. I know something the language and characterisations are a bit "out of character" but that was my intent, if you've seen the newest universe of Star Trek's series, it's more of where I imagine my Voyager residing. Plus, I'm a Brit so, expect fruitful language that makes little sense and a sarcastic undertone that I cannot help. Rated M for language, really colourful language, adult references and terrible plot writing.

I loved Bride of Chaotica for many reasons but was always disappointed with the lack of Chakotay's involvement, I've said previously that I always felt the character was underused and when he did feature it was often cliched and that was frustrating, he was always such a dry and darkly humoured character and I wish he had been given the chance to be something other than brooding or in the background. There are moments in the episode where you can see him cracking up, especially during the scene when Janeway agrees to be Arachnia and this sprung from that, well… that and a heavy night of drinking I once participated in many years ago that led to me being completely teetotal for the last 10 years.

Thank you to any who makes it through and I welcome reviews which I will reply to as and when time presents itself. I am truly grateful for all the support and feedback I've received so far and I hope you enjoy reading another nightmare of confusing twists.

Peace My Dearies.

 **Disclaimer** : I don't own them, I wish I did, but I don't. Go watch the show and thank the powers that be for a loveable series. Please don't sue me. I'm poor and have nothing better to do with my life.

* * *

 **Of Tangled Webs and Spider Parlours**

Move.

Move faster.

One foot in front of the other.

Quickly now.

There is little to ever be excited about on Voyager that doesn't negate a quickly impending death. We have bounced across the universe from one drama to the next, I'm still surprised we're in one piece if I'm being honest, to have something other than doom in the air is so refreshing. And deserved.

It's been some of the roughest months we have ever faced lately and despite the fact there was a slight hint of doom in the air, only barely detectable, the latest situation had resolved itself relatively quickly and had been gloriously ridiculous. A welcome break from the usual drama the Delta Quadrant throws at us regularly and without reasonable cause. I swear the universe hates us.

I've never known so yo-yoing highs and lows like we have on Voyager. One moment you're begging for your life, the next you're begging for anything to make the boredom end and the in-between is a place of polite decorum and duty. It's not quite the life I imagined but it's better than the alternative. At least I hope it is, because if this is all for nothing, if we've battled the odds and we never get to return home, I'm likely to haunt the shit out of Starfleet HQ for leaving us stranded in a sea of stars under the rule and thumb of a Federation I'm still unsure I can honour.

Choosing to join the crew and the Starfleet role once more is something that is still a grey area for me. Something that still balances on an ever-shifting base of protocol that I don't fully support or believe in and a cause I left behind in exchange for mercy. Redemption. But the redemption isn't what I expected, however more hopeful than the cell sentence that would await me otherwise, but still a cell of sorts. A cage that the flying bird will never escape.

Come on feet.

Faster now.

Not much further.

We can't be late.

If I had a ration for every time we've smashed up against protocol and morals in this damned journey, I'd be the King of the ship, I could even replicate myself a crown and sceptre to prove it with all my overflowing profits on the back of our doom and gloom. It's ridiculous really.

Not as ridiculous as today though, which happens to take the biscuit in its absurdity. It was a whole new level of insanity that few would believe, if it's odd and freaky then chances are, it will happen to us. We're a lightning rod for the all the crazy the Delta Quadrant has to offer and that in itself can be exhausting as it seems some days to be a never-ending stream and then it all goes drastically quiet and boring and you miss the extreme side of things while you're sat on your ass for 12 hours a day assigning mundane tasks to already bored crew. At least with our latest drama that came within inches of being something other than amusing, it was a change of the usual wham bam of weapons fire, ship-shaking politics and soul-destroying decisions.

Finding ourselves trapped in the wrong sub-space layer at the wrong time isn't something that most people come up against, but for us on Voyager, it's par for the course and I'd be frankly disappointed if it turned out to be something less interesting and bizarre.

As usual though I had been stuck on the Bridge while the real interesting shit went down, I'm ever the spectator but this time, I've missed something that I'm not sure I can live with missing and if my legs don't hurry up and get me to my destination, I might lose my shit.

The second the immediate danger was over, we had the okay to carry on as usual in the stoicism of duty to not be distracted longer than necessary from the ultimate goal of the ship. At that point I had taken off from the bridge at a speed I hope nobody noticed but that was way faster than I could make excuses for, in order to make sure I didn't miss what would surely be the best sight to ever behold in my life.

I have seen supernovas, nebulas no other humans will probably ever see, worlds I could only ever imagine, species that seem impossible and things that science can barely explain but this… this will make them all soooooooooooooooo insignificant in its magnificence.

My speed has gone from wide strides to a restrained run, working my way as quickly as possible through the maze of corridors and befuddled crew members puzzling over my haste to pass them on my way to greatness.

The rules and regulations to which we live aboard Voyager has been a hard pill to swallow, especially seeing as I noped out on them before to join the Marquis, the rigid and unyielding nature of some of them in particular and the effect they have on what little free will is left after duty ends is something that I struggle to support. They leave very little life to live at times and have drawn immovable lines between people that extinguish all hope of anything resembling real life. They leave a yearning that cannot be sated, for the rules do not allow.

Today is a ray of sunshine perhaps in the perpetual gloom we so closely follow towards the Alpha Quadrant. And I will happily get sunburnt if it means something other than the constant darkness that never seems to cease in its pursuit of our souls.

Checking the ships computer once more to ensure I've got my timings right, I hop into the turbo-lift with just a smidge more giddy-up in my step than I can explain away as nothing and a smile that shouldn't really be there as broadly as it is right now.

When the doors open to reveal an empty corridor, part of me is relieved to see there will hopefully be no witnesses to what is about to unfold and slightly anxious about if I've missed the magical alignment of fate that should allow this moment to happen.

For a moment I consider getting back into the lift and resigning myself to a fate that is more boring and unsatisfying but then I hear something.

Something I can't quite put my fingers on.

A far away tingling of what could be bells.

Half expecting Santa Claus to come riding around the corner in a sleigh, I wonder for a moment if I've stepped off onto the wrong deck (which begs the question of when did we get a Christmas deck?) but then I realise what it could be and with a joy I can barely contain, I realise that what is coming is going to be far more entertaining than I thought.

The jingle bells grow louder and as the source finally rounds the corner of the corridor, all thoughts of anything but this moment are lost.

Thank you spirits.

The form before me is in mid-scamper, attempting the best inconspicuous shuffle-trot I have ever seen in an apparent attempt to not be noticed in their current get up and doing a fairly shit job of doing so, as a cacophony of metal jangling noises and tiny feet scampering in heels far too high for a Hobbit of her stature accompany her every step.

So far, her head is turned over her shoulder as she trots down the corridor so she's yet to have spotted me standing here in a nirvana I cannot describe, her dress is hitched in her hands in an attempt to move faster but she's so distracted by making sure no one sees her she keeps catching herself in the slight train of the impressive dress dragging along the carpet behind her.

She reaches the end of the corridor, just inches from me still stood waiting in the open turbo-lift, still looking over her shoulder, she reaches out for the lift call button and when it doesn't make its usual activation sound, she turns to look confused and then jumps about three feet backwards in shock when she clocks me standing there with what has to be the smuggest smile known to mankind.

"HELL!" Kathryn's annoyance is evident.

"It had to be you, of course it had to be you!" Very evident.

The death glare is in full effect but completely useless on me, I am too overwhelmed to be anything but overjoyed at her appearance.

"Your Majesty." I gesture for her to enter the lift beside me.

"Fuck off." Her eyes are burning fury but I'm dying with the need to laugh, I cannot take this, this is literally the best day ever.

"You can't stand there all day." Although I wish she would because moral would go up a hundred percent. She makes no move to enter the lift, she could not be more pissed off if she tried.

The hands go to the hips in what is usually referred to as "The Janeway means business" pose in a vain attempt to maintain some sort of professionalism but it's also completely lost on me, I cannot take her seriously at all. Her silent protest doesn't last long though, as the distant sounds of rapidly approaching chatter causes her to suddenly launch herself into the turbo-lift like a flying squirrel and brace herself against the wall out of sight.

As slowly as humanly possible, I draw out of my movements to close the doors just to further delay the stealthy exit of the Queen of the Spider People as the Queen herself curses loudly at me in her agonising torture "Enough people have seen me today in this ridiculous thing today will you close the damn doors already?!".

I'm never going to get these kinds of opportunities again, not unless the Spirits are incredibly kind to me, so I'm going to have my cake, eat it, order another, eat that then order some cider and throw an all-night party because I'll be hot damned if this isn't the best moment of my life.

The doors slide shut and I voice the command for deck three while Kathryn glares at me silently from across the lift.

I have no idea what Tom Paris was thinking when he made this outfit for her but hooooeeeeee it's a doozy! It might have fit the Queen Arachnia of his program, but to see Kathryn Janeway wearing this dress… Dear Gods, I could not be happier, it's like seeing Tuvok in a bonnet and frilly breeches, I cannot even begin to describe the happiness that this is bringing.

For one thing, the dress itself looks like some sort of chainmail from the crusades that collided with a log saw being operated by an overly perverted delinquent, which I guess it kinda was… There's a long and I mean loooooooong, slit up the front which alone was a crime, revealing far more shapely and appealing legs than I imagined our dearly height deficient Captain possesses. The shoes have given her somewhat of a boost which isn't surprising given the heel on them on which Kathryn is teetering upon, she looks like she robbed a unicorn of its horn, dipped it in paint and strapped it to her foot. But the sensation of being face and eye level with Kathryn is somewhat novel, even if she is avoiding my not so inconspicuous gaze and is herself staring at the floor less betray her embarrassment.

There's an almost shimmering and blinding effect of the dress, it's dramatic long and sweeping style somewhat heavy on Kathryn's petite frame as though it weighs a ton to wear, in places she's swamped in material and it only adds to show just how small she really is. It's certainly over-the-top and camp but insanely brilliant all at once.

This is the most un-Captainly she has ever looked. Kathryn's usual style is somewhat understated and almost "Earth Mother" at times, a look I quite appreciate on her, I can't say I've ever pictured her style as anything other than conservative. The most daring thing I've ever seen her wear is one of those corseted dresses from her gothic novels in the holodeck and while this may not be the most flattering of dresses, it was certainly the most interesting and entertaining one I've come across in a long time and I cannot begin to express how much I hope this isn't the only time I see it. She looks like she stepped off the pages of an old noir fiction written whilst on acid.

Having Seven stalking about the ship in next to nothing with all her womanly assets on display on a daily basis has damaged Kathryn's confidence somewhat, especially seeing as age has crept up on us all like a hammer lately. I've gone from dashing silver fox with the strength and stamina of a bull, to… whatever this is right now…. Slightly fuller, slightly less toned, somewhat needing the gym and a stamina that is slightly more… flat…. If not, non-existent.

Age has softened me in sooooo many ways, ways I don't really want to get into right now, but it's mostly due to my own laziness that I've not stayed in shape and a lack of anything resembling a love life that has robbed my stamina from me when I wasn't looking. Kathryn on the other hand has taken to age like fine wine and that has been surprising.

Where my redemption was handed to me on a plate by Kathryn Janeway, Kathryn Janeway has yet to find hers. The guilt she still carries as a heavy burden for us becoming stranded out here weighs heavily on her in ways most cannot imagine. She works tirelessly to get us home, even as she loses her way herself, through hard work, forgetting to eat, forgetting to sleep and offering herself as a sacrifice on a regular basis to whatever Spirits need sating to get her crew home safely.

The beginning of our journey, when the stress was overwhelming and times were incredibly turbulent, I thought Kathryn would punish herself to death, she became a breathing skeleton that haunted us with her guilt, wasting away before us in her quest to fulfil her duty.

Although the stress never really leaves us, recently she has taken onboard repeated requests from myself and the Doctor to look after herself and has finally started to look healthy again. Her fuller figure suits her better than any burden and quite frankly she still drives me wild…

Wait…

I mean…

It really suits her….

The collar of her dress is a damn near health hazard and could potentially be used as weapon if I make fun of her too much, it's grandeur almost appears as an intricate vase supporting her head in place of flowers. It is pure genius on Tom's behalf and also slightly worrisome for whether Tom is harbouring a crush on his dear Captain because overall the dress is insanely risqué and entirely enticing despite its absurd hilarity.

The wig just takes the biscuit really. Although I have to admit the dark colour does actually suit her, it reminds me of that damned bun of steel she kept knotted on her head that was the only thing that stayed in place while the rest of us looked like we'd been dragged through a bush backwards in battle. I prefer the shorter look she's been maintaining lately, however much I appreciated her long hair when it was untied she definitely suits the shorter style. This wig just makes her look pale and somewhat terrifying.

Her makeup is…. Striking… To say the least… The entirety of her look is spot on for Tom's program, but completely insane to say the least.

What is causing a slight amount of alarm though is the rather intriguing and somewhat generous amount of cleavage on show, for what is essentially a small window onto her chest region, the gap is enough to cause me difficulty in not looking directly at it.

"Out with it." Kathryn's voice slices through the silence that had hung so awkwardly so far, the hands go to the hips once more and she turns to look at me with a menacing gaze.

"I don't know what you're referring to." I lie, because I'm enjoying this far too much.

"The jokes, get 'em all out now mister because this is your one opportunity, when those lift doors open we are never speaking of this again."

"You look like a walking mirror ball attacked a Christmas tree with a suit of armour."

"Here we go…" Kathryn sighs, rolls her eyes and almost squares herself ready for the onslaught.

"I've seen supernova's less blinding than this dress."

"Stop looking at it and maybe you'll keep your eyesight." She growls.

"Is that a threat or is that the health warning written on your dress?" I waggle my eyebrows at her.

"Depends on if you've got anything else to say." She cocks her eyebrow at me and narrows her gaze to be as lethal as possible.

"You look like the bride of Frankenstein, bride of Dracula and a satellite all in one." I can't help myself, this is entirely too much fun.

"Demotion could really suit you." She muses.

"Not as much as this dress suits you, oh by the way we had a hail while you were having fun on the holodeck, it was the Borg, they wanted to know if they could borrow you to replace their deflector dish." They could make an entire cube outta this thing, this dress could stand a nuclear blast by the looks of it.

"Demotion is too good for you, air-lock it is." She nods happily to herself.

"B'Elanna wanted to see if we could somehow incorporate the dress into the ship's shielding." I should really stop now but I cannot resist, this is probably the highlight of the entire Delta Quadrant experience.

"What the hell was I thinking when I put this thing on?!" Kathryn growls once more, tugging the dress back into place as she speaks, the material keeps shifting and riding up and she's been fidgeting non-stop to keep it under control but is failing miserably to preserve her dignity. I've seen enough to know I will not be sleeping much later, this will haunt my every thought. "I should have insisted Paris wear it himself, this dress is impossible!" She huffs and throws her arms up in exasperation, only serving to reveal even more tantalising sights as she does so.

"Uhh, your cup runneth over your majesty." I nod towards her bust line without looking too directly at it as Kathryn huffs once more and attempts to shoe horn herself back into her dress.

When Kathryn had agreed to be Queen Arachnia, I couldn't have been more surprised or happier. Usually she likes to be at the forefront of danger with every battle that befalls us, but this was something I never thought she would ever agree to do but considering her eagerness to do anything to get the crew home safely, it really shouldn't be that surprising that she would do anything, including dressing up like a demented Queen, in order to ensure the wellbeing of her crew.

When she had actually initially agreed to play Arachnia, I was secretly hoping there was a part in there for a strapping and well hung first officer but alas, as always, I was left on the side-lines while all the real fun happens.

I never get to be a part of the fun when it rarely does happen, I always seems to be forgotten in the background while everyone else gets to live it up, not that I should complain. I've found that my ability to blend into a background has it's uses occasionally but it really helped when I realised what the journey home was going to be like aboard this vessel. I was given another chance to redeem myself for my many, many wrongs, but had also a duty to serve in doing so, despite my judgements or morals.

Voicing my concerns or wishes when it goes against what duty expects or what the situation calls for is not something that makes a seventy-year journey a pleasant one, it makes it awkward, difficult and uncomfortable for everyone if I'm whining the whole way home because I don't agree with the politics of the Federation.

Kathryn trusted me based on very little, she gave me an opportunity when most would have left me there stranded or taken me as prisoner for the entire journey back to the Alpha Quadrant. Realising our situation was more than a little bizarre and the only way home was unity with people who were far more forgiving than I was friendly, I've vowed to do whatever I can to repay Kathryn for her generosity, trust and forgiveness and support her, even if it means shutting up most of the time and loitering in the background so I don't offend anyone.

Just once though, I would like to be involved with something more fun than assigning duty rosters.

I would have given a limb to have been there today on the holodeck, instead of having Tuvok staring at me across the Bridge while we listened to the insanity of Tom's program playing out on the comm system. Kathryn was absolutely hamming it up by the sounds of things and I couldn't be more pissed that I missed out seeing it all for myself.

I could have fit into that robot thing, no one would have noticed me.

"The next time I agree to something this stupid, remind me of this moment." Kathryn fidgets once more with her dress "This dress is getting recycled the second I walk in my quarters."

"Don't do that, I've been working on a farming program that I need a scarecrow for." She gently wallops my arm but fails to bury the laugh that spills out as she does, she knows how insane she looks right now.

"This is borderline torture Chakotay, give me a break would ya? I already look this ridiculous, do not add to my misery."

"But it's upping my moral like you wouldn't believe." It really is.

The whine of the turbo-lift begins to drop as we approach deck three. This saddens me somewhat.

"Please tell me Paris or the Doctor took a holoimage of you in this."

"I threatened Mr Paris with another thirty days in the brig if anyone took a picture, haven't I been humiliated enough for one day?" She sighs again. She needs coffee, I can tell.

"This is a once in a lifetime opportunity, can you blame me?" My mouth is still broadly smiling and I know she's noticed that it's the happiest I've looked in a long time.

"I suppose not, I'm guessing you're to blame for me not being able to get a transport directly back to my quarters?"

"Possibly."

Kathryn rolls her eyes in response and buries her face behind her hand. When the photonic invasion was over and we were restored to normal space, Kathryn had requested to be transported from the holodeck directly to her quarters, I had the transporter room refuse her request just so I could catch a glimpse of the Queen of the Spider people stalking the corridors. Totally worth it, would do it again.

The turbo-lift stops and while Kathryn will be tottering off back to her quarters to de-Queenify herself, I must sadly return to the Bridge.

Kathryn struts out of the lift and gathers the dress in her hands once more, no doubt so she can make it back to her quarters as quickly as humanly possible.

I take a mental snapshot which I'm going to get a remarkable amount of use from and hope to the Spirits that when my memories begin to fade with age, this isn't one of the first that's lost.

"Time's up Mr Chakotay, the wonderful thing about being Captain is that the next time the future of this ship depends on Captain Proton and his band of morons, I'll make damn sure that Queen Arachnia becomes your starring role." She winks and the doors slide shut.

Damn that was awesome.


	2. Spider Parlours Chapter 2

**Disclaimer** : I don't own them, I wish I did, but I don't. Go watch the show and thank the powers that be for a loveable series. Please don't sue me. I'm poor and have nothing better to do with my life.

Author's Notes: Profanity and drinking ahoy. I'm sorry they end up drunk in my stories so much. A lot of references to "Thirty Days" and Tom's Brig stay.

* * *

 **Revenge is a Dish Best Served with Cobwebs**

"Best day of my life." Tom Paris beams widely and swallows a generous mouthful of cider. He looks like the cat that got the cream, smothered himself in it and rolled around in sprinkles.

Somehow, on this strange journey we're all undertaking, I have become friends with Tom Paris and have found myself regularly invited to his quarters for meals with B'Elanna and Harry.

Sometimes the mess-hall can be a bit overwhelming after a busy day and sometimes you just don't want fifty people overhearing the conversation, especially if it involves the Captain dressed like a gothic Christmas tree.

It's actually nice, something I don't think I could ever have imagined saying. Having people to talk to and unwind who aren't on their guard because you're the first officer. Torres has been a permanent fixture in my life for the last decade, it would seem strange to sever that tie just because we're Starfleet officers now.

Harry I've watched grow from an over excitable, annoying boy to a semi-annoying man. It's somewhat fulfilling to know that we've all had a part in Harry Kim's journey to manhood and he will be a fine Captain one day, he's also wickedly funny when he's had too much to drink so I can't say I mind spending time with him.

Tom however… has been a long game. I could quite honestly have punched him square in the face more times than I care to remember but his recent Brig stay after disobeying orders and standing up for what he believed in gave me a new-found respect for the once delinquent and troubled young man.

Today had been Tom's not so quiet revenge for the injustice he felt for being confined to the Brig for thirty days. A situation had presented itself and he had taken the opportunity to rejig the scales between him and the Captain while also recementing his role in her life as lovable miscreant that she sought out when few others would have. She had presented Tom with a redemption as she had done so to me, it's something in Kathryn's nature to save others, something I imagine stems from her difficult and troubling past of not being able to save others she cared for.

This had been the first major bump in the road in their relationship of surrogate mother and son, well if you don't count the time he kidnapped her and had lizard babies with her, but they have always maintained a friendship beneath their duty that had given Tom his life back and had given Kathryn someone to rely on when all things are going to shit.

His disobedience in the matter with the Moneans had been somewhat of a sore point with both Kathryn and Tom ever since it had happened, Tom considered his confinement as something akin to torture, denied his rank and privileges, denied all contact with the crew bar the bare minimum and with only a writing Padd for company, Tom stewed for thirty days on the incident, himself and Kathryn with little distraction from his demons and a bitterness has remained within him.

Kathryn tortured herself the entire time of his Brig stay, keeping her contact with the crew bare minimum herself and stewed in her Ready Room over more coffee than any Doctor would recommend and an already present guilt that surrounds her constantly. She felt she had been too harsh, she had perhaps gone too far and most of all, she was troubled by how ready she had been to fire a torpedo at him in the Delta Flyer because of the damned Prime Directive and its shackles around her every breath.

Today had fixed the distance between them and had also served to entertain the shit out of the rest of us, so all in all I couldn't be prouder of Tom Paris and his vengeance and can only hope that there is a next time, where I would quite like to be a part of the costume designing.

"I didn't think she'd actually agree to wearing it, I had a more toned-down version as backup ready because I was sure she was going to refuse." Tom shakes his head in disbelief, as though he can't believe it actually happened. Thank the Spirits it did.

"That woman surprises me every day." Torres admits, I can honestly say I agree and that's what makes Kathryn Janeway so damn intriguing, not only does she keep you guessing, you can never actually pin down who she is, she just gives out little breadcrumbs of information like she's feeding hungry ducks without giving the whole loaf away.

"Do you think she'll play Captain Proton with us again?" Kim asks hopefully.

"Not unless hell freezes over Harry." Paris replies bluntly.

"I think the Captain enjoys her holo-adventures to be a bit more sedate that death-ray wielding mad men." B'Elanna finishes her glass of cider and reaches for the bottle.

"You've got to be kidding me, have you ever played any of her holo-novels? The master of the house spent most of his time trying to bang me when I played the last one she recommended." Everyone turns to look at Tom with open mouths as he talks. "All those corsets and heaving bosoms, she might seem all prim and proper but I bet she's got one hell of a kinky streak in her."

What the hell does Kathryn do on the holodeck? I always was under the impression she was in classic literature and history, not… whatever Tom's implying…

"It's always the quiet ones you've got to look out for, they always turn out to be the freaky ones." Nods B'Elanna.

The three of them silently look at me and I realise that was a jab at both the Captain and myself.

"I haven't a clue what you're on about."

"Oh come off it, the Val Jean was a small ship Chakotay, I heard it all, regularly." Torres looks at me pointedly.

"Same goes for you." I reply and her look withers somewhat. I did hear it and at one point I would have been intrigued to discover for myself what all the noises were about but that has long since passed, Torres is like family now. For the record though it sounded like a pack of howler monkeys ripping apart a hyena.

"You can play the aloof and brooding card as much as you like, I've spent too much time with you to know it's bullshit." B'Elanna winks at me.

"I refuse to believe the Captain is…" Harry swallows hard and seems unable to finish the sentence, lost in a sea of imagination he wasn't planning on visiting. To think of Kathryn as anything other than the Captain is impossible for 99 percent of the crew and to be in a conversation where her kinky side is being discussed and theorised is causing Harry some awkward discomfort. Me too.

"She's a human Har, you can't expect her to live like a monk just because she's a Captain." Tom would have a valid point if it weren't for damned protocol and the fact she lives so rigidly by it that it leaves little room for her to be anything but a Captain.

"But it's like… Knowing your Mom… does… stuff…" Harry swallows hard again still unable to follow the train of thought to the station where his Captain has a sex life.

"Your Mom definitely does, little minx that she is." Tom grins and Harry pales, Torres nearly chokes on her cider and I bury a laugh behind my own glass off cider.

"Who can say what the Captain is like behind closed doors, she spends too much time with her head in padds drinking coffee." Torres shakes her head at what she considers probably to be a waste of time and life. I can actually agree with that.

"All that caffeine must make her go off like a rocket in bed." Muses Tom before B'Elanna unleashes an elbow into his ribs, Harry spit-chokes a mouthful of cider over himself and I pretend I've suddenly developed hearing loss to avoid any further awkwardness.

"Jeez Tom what the hell is wrong with you?!" she spits before rolling her eyes in disgust.

"What? I've got a healthy imagination, I'm sure I'm not the only one who imagines she's a firecracker in bed." Suddenly all eyes are on me again and suddenly I don't like where this is going.

I remain quiet and take another sip of cider and suddenly find the wall interesting enough to stare at until they stop staring at me.

Tom nods knowingly at Torres who smirks, as does Harry.

Oh Gods.

They know.

Do they know?

Oh Gods.

"You've spent the most time with the Captain, hell you were stranded with her for weeks on that bug planet, what is she really like?" B'Elanna asks, her face drowning in a smirk that is entirely too smug for my liking, she's enjoying this far too much.

"Private." I've got my best serious voice and face on, but I'm struggling to remain so, New Earth isn't a topic I like to discuss. Ever. The spark of memories is something I wish to avoid and the mere mention of the planet-of-the-cockblockers is making me nervous. I find myself fidgeting with my Comm-badge in an effort to distract my brain from going to places it really doesn't want to visit.

A table of visibly disappointed faces stare back at me but I remain silent. If Kathryn knew we were having this conversation she'd have us scrubbing Chell's toilet with a toothbrush all the way home. It's not the conversation I would like to find myself in but somehow, shit finds a way to me.

"Party-pooper." Tom sticks his tongue out and refills his glass. I'm starting to become concerned about the amount of my Antarian cider that has disappeared this evening. I only have a limited supply squirreled away and I'm not about to let this deviant drink all of it. Besides I've had more than enough of this conversation and I want out before Kathryn has all of our heads for trophies on the Ready room wall.

"I should really be going." I start to rise as a chorus of disapproval erupts from them all, like children denied one more fairy-tale before bed.

"Oh come on big man, the night's barely a puppy, lets rip the roof off!" Paris throws a generous amount of cider down his throat as B'Elanna reaches for his glass and confiscates it.

"I think someone's had enough to drink, wouldn't you say?" She levels a look of threat in his direction and he visually shrinks back into his seat.

"Thank you for a lovely evening." I pick up the bottle and head to the door, thankful to escape before things get too messy and before I get to a point where they might actually get something resembling the truth regarding Kathryn.

Not that I actually know what that truth is. I can't label or even explain Kathryn at the best of times, I do know however that it would not do her justice to attempt it whilst drunk.

B'Elanna follows me to the door and as it opens, she leans in close and whispers, out of range of Kim and Paris to hear.

"You can't pretend forever Chakotay, at least not to me." She eyes me suspiciously and I feel a warmth creep across my cheeks as the cider and embarrassment combine to betray me.

"I can try." I smile and leave.

* * *

With little else to do with the night, I begin the gentle, if not slightly drunker than I had anticipated, walk back to my quarters.

There is something incredibly calming about walking Voyager, something to do with the gentle hum of the ship itself and the squishy cushion of the carpet beneath my inebriated feet, it's like cloud walking home to a chorus of bees. The Val Jean had been too much of a metal bucket to ever feel homely, but Voyager could easily pass as a luxury liner given the opportunity. It's not exactly a dream but it's far more comfortable than the brig I would have been confined to, or the rusty tin can of a ship I was riding into my moral battles.

The thought of a rusty tin can reminds me, I forgot to tell Seven that the Transporter maintenance schedule for next week needs to happen tomorrow, Ensign Orbus reported a glitch in the pattern buffers that was giving him a headache to fix, just before I finished my Bridge duty. They'd be out of action until Seven can take a look.

As I reach for my badge, I realise it's not there.

Shit.

For a moment I consider if I'm waaaaaaaaaay drunker than first thought, or if I have indeed lost it, then I remember fiddling with it during the conversation with Torres, Paris and Kim. It must have fallen off, I was always told too much fiddling would make things fall off, I just didn't take it this literally.

Ah damnit.

The thought of going back isn't particularly a happy one but I need it none the less, reluctantly I turn around and trudge back to the cabin of the demented.


	3. Spider Parlours Chapter 3

**Disclaimer** : I don't own them, I wish I did, but I don't. Go watch the show and thank the powers that be for a loveable series. Please don't sue me. I'm poor and have nothing better to do with my life.

Author's Notes: Profanity and memory loss incoming, clichéd as hell and I'm not ashamed at all.

* * *

 **The Flies Revolt**

Holy fuck I think I'm dead.

Oh the pain.

I can taste pennies.

Oh Gods.

This isn't good.

This is not good.

I haven't felt this hungover since…. Forever. I don't think I have ever felt this hungover.

I afraid that if I open my eyes I'm going to spontaneously combust like a vampire in the light.

My brain feels like it's actually pulsating in it's nauseating throb, my tongue is stuck the roof and my mouth and I'm fairly certain I'm going to vomit in the very, very near future.

Oh Gods.

Spirits.

Hell, even Satan, one of you do something, take this monster of a hangover and fuck off somewhere else with it.

What the hell happened last night? How did I get this hungover?

The last thing that I remember with any clarity is going back to get my Comm-badge….

I need to move.

I need to get up.

I'm going to die.

Oh Gods.

Gingerly, I open my eyes and immediately regret it.

The first sight that greets me is Tom Paris. Something I was not expecting. Especially not Tom Paris fast asleep, upside-down on the couch with his head on the floor, legs in the air, dressed only in his boxer shorts and somehow, still holding a full glass of cider.

How is that even possible? I mean, the man's upside down…. I couldn't attempt that sober, I'm actually sort of impressed….

And either I've been broken into by an interior designer or these aren't my quarters. There is clothing strewn across the floor, empty cider bottles littering most surfaces and what appears to be a half-eaten stack of pancakes in the rubber plant.

What the hell happened last night?!

In an attempt to get my bearings, I lift my head and instantly wish I hadn't, my stomach lurches causing a dry heave of such force that I nearly pull a stomach muscle. Swallowing hard and stilling myself for a moment, I fight back the nausea enough to realise I'm in Tom's quarters and somehow had been asleep sat upright at the dining table.

I have no idea what happened last night or how I've managed to get myself into this state and I don't even want to know about Tom's current upside-down situation but somethings waaaaaay off. Like I'm supposed to remember something, but I don't.

I need water.

Lots of water.

I glance at the replicator and wish harder than I have ever wished before that during last night's mysterious activities I developed telekinetic powers and won't have to walk over there to get a glass of water. After a few moments of intense glaring at it, I accept that I need to actually get up and that I will probably die in doing so. My head is going to explode any minute and my stomach is currently trying to exit through my mouth.

I hate myself.

What the hell did I do to myself last night?

Why did I see the need to get this messy?

I swear to the Spirits, I am going to become teetotal. This shit is not worth it.

With a heavy body, I drag myself unwillingly to the replicator and order the coldest water possible and lose myself to a few moments of self-loathing and regret that goes hand in hand with alcohol, as I lean painfully against the wall, hoping for death to spare me of any further discomfort.

Without warning, the sound of what appears to be a deeply pained Targ groans into life from the direction of the couch, followed by a loud thump and the sound of spilled liquid.

I'm guessing Tom's just woken up.

Turning around I see him now flat on his back on the floor, covered in cider and staring at the ceiling with more regret than I've ever seen on any lifeforms face in my entire life.

"Is this purgatory?" He croaks.

"You aren't that lucky Paris." I groan back.

"I think I broke my liver." He groans once more and attempts to haul himself to his feet, only to lose his balance and end up on the sofa, pointing at my water and beckoning me with a desperate look.

Wincing with every step, I wobble my way over to him, pass him the glass and join him on the couch in deep regret.

"What happened last night?" He asks.

"You're asking me?! I barely remember who I am Tom." I croak, cradling my head in my hands.

"Where's B?" He looks around painfully, with a fear I've seen more than once in his eyes.

I hadn't even thought about B'Elanna, she'd know what happened. She's also probably going to kill Tom because if we're in this state, something must have gotten way out of hand last night.

"I've no idea." I admit "Do you remember anything?" I ask before burying my head back into my hands.

"The last thing I remember is… ahhh…. you… you came back for you Comm-badge..." He groans again and attempts to stand once more, before admitting defeat and leaning back into the couch.

Great.

Neither of us remember.

This is going to be a great fucking day.

I look at Tom who looks as nauseated as I do and wonder just how the hell we ended up in this situation. I watch as he reluctantly reaches over to the unit next to the couch and slaps his Comm-badge and opens a channel to Torres with a deep pain.

"Paris to Torres."

"Unable to comply."

The Comm hisses with static and cuts off.

Oh shit.

The look of worry that has just settled on Tom's face is a new level I've not experienced before.

"Computer locate B'Elanna Torres." He asks gently, wincing at the computers warbling reply.

"Unable to comply."

"Why!?"

"Security authorisation code required."

"Authorisation Omega 5-9-3."

"Invalid code." Tom sighs deeply and closes his eyes in defeat.

"Either she doesn't want you to find her or we've done something major." I admit, it wouldn't be beyond reason if we were as drunk as we fear last night, B'Elanna would be somewhere nursing a serious grudge today, but if that isn't the case, something more sinister is going on here and I don't even want to begin to wonder what it is.

"Wonderful, I must be in deep shit." Tom downs the rest of the water and sighs again "Do me a solid Chakotay, phase me between the eyes and put me out of misery before B'Elanna gets to me." He pleads.

"I'm not that generous Tom, if I'm suffering, so are you." Leaning back into the sofa, I begin to wonder if getting a hypo beamed directly to me would be worth the dressing down from Tuvok over misuse of ships systems. I vaguely remember they're offline anyway, so luck is definitely not on my side today as it is.

"Where's Har?" Tom sits up suddenly.

Oh shit, Harry!

He was here!

I remember that at least!

Slapping my own Comm-badge, which drunken Chakotay had obviously found and pinned back onto my tunic, I open a channel to Harry.

"Chakotay to Kim."

There's a long pause, during which I let the worry of what we might have done begin to really take shape before Harry finally croaks into static.

"Kim here." He sounds as good as we do, good to know we're not the only one's suffering.

"Harry! Where are you?"

"On duty on the Bridge." Poor man, to be in this state and on duty on the Bridge… Come to think of it… I'm supposed to be on the Bridge…. Oh no….

And so is Paris….

Oh shit….

Oh shitty, shitty, shit, shit…

It appears as though Tom has also just reached this realisation, as he suddenly leaps of the sofa and takes off towards his bathroom like a gazelle.

"Uhhh... we'll see you shortly Ensign, Chakotay out." Panic has now set in,

By the time I've closed the channel and stood up, a red faced and out of breath Tom is somehow dressed and holding a hypo out to me.

"Where did you get these from?" Tom knows full well he's not supposed to have medical supplies in his possession, especially given what he has access to in Sickbay, still it doesn't surprise me that he keeps them handy.

"I keep them in case of emergencies… I'm pretty sure this is one and I'd like to see you do a full Sickbay shift without needing the use of a hangover cure." He's got a point. The Doctor would drive me to drink. I accept the hypo and press it to my neck as the inevitable hiss of cold and wonderful medicine is pumped into my system.

While Tom starts hunting the room for his shoes, I take a moment to visit the bathroom and the sight that greets me in the mirror is not one fit for public. My hairs stuck up on end like I've been electrocuted, my eyes are bloodshot and ringed with black bags and I'm a shade of greenish-grey that I've never seen before. Washing my face and relieving myself, I make me back to Paris, who is now biting his nails and looking around the room agitated.

"We're going to have to fill in the blanks later, I'm fairly certain there's a small redhead waiting to throw us out the airlock on the Bridge and I do not need any more trouble where the Captain's concerned." Tom looks me squarely in the eyes and lays a heavy pat on my back in an attempt to man me up as though we faced battle, considering I'm late for shift and hungover, I'd say it was a pretty accurate assessment of the situation and that I actually need the encouragement to go face Kathryn Janeway in my current state.

The hypo has started to take effect and despite the fact I still feel like the walking dead, I have to get to the Bridge and at some point, figure out what the hell happened here last night. Resigned to my fate and fearing all hope is lost, I take a breath and start towards the door with an equally sullen Tom behind me. Just as the door opens our next problem presents itself.

"Tuvok to Janeway."

I turn to look at Tom who looks back at me horrified.

"Tuvok to Janeway, please respond."

The voice is emanating from the Comm-badge pinned to Tom's chest.

That's not his badge.

That's Kathryn's badge.

Oh Gods.

What have we done?

With a look of horror and pure doom we both realise that today is going to be way more complicated than first realised.


	4. Spider Parlours Chapter 4

**Disclaimer** : I don't own them, I wish I did, but I don't. Go watch the show and thank the powers that be for a loveable series. Please don't sue me. I'm poor and have nothing better to do with my life.

Author's Notes: Profanity and a slightly long chapter ahead. If you ever drank this much, you'll sympathise. And hopefully never do it again.

* * *

 **Sticky Webs of Deceit.**

"I'm a dead man." Tom leans up against the Turbo-lift wall as he speaks, still out of breath from the jog we undertook to get here.

"The key is to not panic, we're not sure what's actually happened yet." I try to pacify his fears but quite frankly I'm pretty sure we're fucked. I have no idea what occurred last night, but if Tom has somehow acquired the Captains Comm-badge, we've done something horrendous.

"Not panic! How the hell am I supposed to not panic!?" Tom squeaks, his face turning a livid shade of red. "I've got the Captain's Comm-badge, I just got out the brig, I'm not ready for a return visit Chakotay!" He puffs with the effort and wipes a generous amount of sweat from his brow with his tunic,

"Calm down Paris, everything will be fine." I lie." Just follow my lead okay and we'll figure this out." Unless Tom has a side business of being Sherlock Holmes, we are never going to figure this out. I have never been blackout drunk before and certainly never will again because the harder I try to remember last night, the less I recall. My bones ache after sleeping upright in a chair, my head is still gently humming with the remaining hangover and I could eat half the mess-hall unaided.

Just how we've gotten ourselves into this situation isn't clear, but what is clear, we have involved Kathryn at some point and have possibly robbed her of her Comm-badge, so I'm fairly certain we'll both be sharing a brig later but a deep concern is starting to gnaw at my stomach, just what have we done with her and is she okay….

The lift slows to a stop and with a deep breath we both step onto the bridge. Either we've just stepped willingly into our deaths or we are about to lie our way out of hell.

"Good morning Commander, we were about to assemble a search party." Tuvok's dry tone hits me in the face like a slap and panic begins to rise. Tom audibly gulps from next to me, we are absolutely screwed. "Perhaps the next time you and Mr Paris are running late you can inform the Bridge." Oh thank the Gods, it was just his awful attempt at sarcastic humour.

"Apologies Tuvok, I had some important matters to discuss with Paris." He must know I'm lying because I'm sweating like a pig on the surface of the sun and the sweating only gets worse when I realise Kathryn isn't sitting in her seat.

Tuvok nods and Tom shuffles his way to the Helm while I warily make my way to my seat.

Where is she?

Is she not here because of us?

Did we do something to her?

Is she waiting in the Ready room to tear our balls off?

I catch sight of a visibly pale and sweaty Harry who immediately avoids my gaze and taps at his station, wincing with every beep. A silence settles around the Bridge except for the quiet whispered conversation from Ayala and Wildman as they discuss a power fluctuation somewhere in the ship. Everyone's going about their day without concern and it just makes the panic and worry worse.

Do I ask?

Do I actually verbalise that Kathryn isn't here and does anyone know where she is and implicate myself and Paris in the possible disappearance…?

Do I just wing it?

Accessing the Command station, I notice she hasn't logged into the system since yesterday and the worry deepens. She's not here, asking the computer for her location will only locate her badge that's currently on Tom's tunic and trying to locate her without alerting Tuvok that something is going on, is going to be near impossible. The man has a seventh sense for these things. The fact we've not been rumbled so far is only sheer luck and someone's going to realise something isn't right pretty soon.

I look to the Ready room and wonder if I should venture in, for all I know, Kathryn's sat in there drinking coffee and plotting my downfall, but if she isn't….

I need to find out…

Gathering what little courage I have left, I swallow hard and casually stroll over to the Ready room door and lose myself to a fear of what lies within. As I reach for the chime, Tuvok's voice interrupts me.

"Commander, the Captain isn't on duty today, I did however try contacting her earlier but assumed she was too busy to respond."

Ahhhhh…

Okay….

She's not on duty today…. So maybe she's sat in her cabin completely oblivious to all of this and missing a Comm-badge…. Then again, if that was the case, she would have come to the Bridge herself and eaten Paris for breakfast.

"Ahh, I forgot, thank you Tuvok." I walk back to my seat and exchange a look with Paris. My Padd emits a dull bleep and I pull it from my pocket to see a message from Tom.

 **To: Chakotay, Cmdr.**

 **From: Paris, T.**

 **I'm starting to freak, what did we do? If anyone Comms the Captain and it comes through this badge, how the hell am I supposed to explain that? I tried disabling it but don't have the Captain's authorisation code.**

I'm also starting to freak, I look back at Harry and realise he's probably going to have some of the answers we're looking for.

"Harry, can I see you and Tom in the Ready room please." He nods with a hard swallow, still avoiding my gaze, Tom practically sprints to the Ready room, Harry and myself not far behind.

The second the doors slide shut, Tom practically launches himself at Harry in desperation.

"What the hell is going on Har? What happened last night?" Harry looks both startled and pained by Tom's questions.

"We got drunk. Very drunk. I woke up in the corridor outside my quarters, apparently my snoring woke Tuvok up and now I have a verbal warning on my file." Harry huffs.

"Before that Harry, what happened?! Come on man I need to know!" The look on Harry's face is priceless, he has no idea what is going on right now and I fear we're not going to get the answers we want.

"What are you talking about?" The poor man looks harassed.

"Last night Harry, what happened when we were drunk!?" Tom's practically shrieking, and Harry takes a step back with each word from Tom's mouth.

"We drank cider, Chakotay forgot his Comm-badge…"

"That's it Har, keep going, talk us through it..." Tom pleads.

"He forgot his badge, he came back for it, you managed to talk him into having another drink…" I shoot Tom an unimpressed look, I should have known Tom would have been the catalyst. "..We had more than a few…" Well that's obvious Ensign Eager, I feel like an elephant tried to mate with me last night and it was on top because this hangover is defying medicine currently to torture me. "…I threw up and B'Elanna sent me back to my quarters and said she was going to dock my rations for the cleaning supplies to clean the drawer."

The drawer?

He threw up in a drawer?

"You threw up in one of my drawers Harry?" Tom looks disgusted as Harry nods. "What's wrong with you man, my drawer?"

Harry shrugs "If I was able to explain every decision I've made drunk, I'd be in a much better position that I am now Tom, shit happens."

"Yeah it does, to my drawers!"

"You're not going to let me forget this, are you?" Tom shakes his head at Harry's question. "Why did I tell you, I could have gotten away with it… Is B'Elanna still mad?"

"I couldn't tell you Harry, I don't know where she is?"

"I thought she was with you guys, she didn't arrive for her shift in engineering, Seven's covering it until she shows up."

Oh no.

So that's possibly two members of the crew that we're possibly responsible for the disappearance of….

This isn't going to Brig worthy, this is going to be air-lock worthy…

Tom's face has paled, and he begins to pace frantically.

"What were we doing when you left Harry?" There's a terror behind Tom's eyes that has started to unhinge.

"Drinking." Comes the simple reply.

"Why would I have the Captain's Comm-badge?" Tom rips the badge off his chest and brings it close to Harry's face for emphasis.

"You have the Captain's Comm-badge? Why?" Harry looks as confused as a polar bear in the desert.

"We just asked you why! We don't know Harry!"

"Oh shit, you guys are screwed!" He chuckles.

"This is no laughing matter Harry, what the hell did we do?" Demands Tom, his face reddening with the effort of not losing his shit entirely.

"I really don't know, I threw up, I went to my quarters and fell asleep in the corridor, I'm not exactly having a logical day either." While that's true, it's not quite as bad as the day me and Tom are having. "Actually, I do remember you two talking about something to do with how if you had a ration for every time you've gone up against protocols, that you'd be Kings and that Chakotay was getting ready to leave when I was."

"But he woke up in my quarters with me" Tom blurts out.

Harry looks slightly perturbed.

"Like _with_ you… or..."

Tom cuts him off before he can finish the sentence "Damnit Harry not like that, as in, we were both asleep _separately_ in my quarters this morning and neither of us remember a thing, so either he didn't leave, or he left and came back."

I desperately try to think about it, about if I remember this conversation, or leaving and then going back… But it's all still a blank and any bits I can recall are fuzzy and unreliable like an untuned comm channel. It's quite frightening in reality to not remember what I've done and feel completely clueless about what happened, what if it is something unthinkable, what if its dark and ugly and I'm to blame? If I think about it too long, I'm going to lose my mind.

"Where's your Comm-badge?" Harry asks Tom and suddenly a light goes off in his brain at the same moment it does in mine, if Tom has the Captain's badge, perhaps the Captain has his! Finding his badge could lead us back to the Captain and B'Elanna and just what occurred last night. Why did we not think of that before!? We are morons.

"Computer locate Tom Paris."

"Tom Paris is currently in Guest Quarters Alpha." Finally, a lead!

"Harry you go back to duty and do not breath a word of this till we've figured this all out, you hear me?" Tom looks him sternly in the eyes and Harry nods and exits. Poor chap's having a terrible day and we've just dragged him into whatever shit we're dealing with.

"Looks like the hunt is on." Tom claps his hands together and I follow behind as we chase more shadows in the pursuit of the truth.


	5. Spider Parlours Chapter 5

**Disclaimer** : I don't own them, I wish I did, but I don't. Go watch the show and thank the powers that be for a loveable series. Please don't sue me. I'm poor and have nothing better to do with my life.

Author's Notes: Slightly long chapter, incredible cursing and the logic of drunk people. I apologise if it's getting confusing but well done if you've made it this far without reaching for a drink yourself.

* * *

 **Six Legs Too Many**

"What the fuck?"

Both Tom and I stand open mouthed in Guest Quarters Alpha.

I don't even know where to begin.

To start with the rarely used quarters were locked with one of Tom's many security codes, which took him at least 15 minutes to remember which one it was after much trial and error of various codes. I should be more surprised that the code was actually "Pancake 3-1-3" but I'm not, not after seeing a seeing a half-eaten stack of them in Tom's rubber plant this morning and knowing what a complete and utter tit he is.

Upon entering the Quarters, we were met with a devastation of furniture that hasn't been seen since Neelix ate some questionable mushrooms on a trade mission and decided to play Jenga with his cabin contents. There are upturned chairs strewn about the room, half torn uniforms on various pieces of furniture, for some startling reason there's an actual bejewelled golden crown and sceptre on the floor by the door, two plates of mostly eaten food on the couch, another empty bottle of cider and a half-melted candle in what looks like Harry's clarinet on the table.

Gotta admit, it's the best use for Harry's clarinet that I've come across so far, but it does nothing to answer questions, it just poses more. Tom starts to venture further into the room, scanning over every inch of it with his eyes for clues. I'm too scared to look, I don't know what happened in this room, I don't think I want to know by the looks of it. Regardless there's a horrible sense of déjà vu that is frightening me.

Slapping my Comm-badge, I figure paging Tom is the quickest way to find his badge in this shit pit of a room.

"Chakotay to Paris."

A warble emanates from the bed, where it looks as though a tap dancing class held its latest recital. The sheets are balled up and…. Shiny looking…

Tom gingerly grabs the sheet with a look of disgust, finding the sheets stuck together and stained with a dark substance before pulling out his Comm-badge followed by what is unquestionably a half empty glass of... honey.

"What the hell happened here?" I ask, not sure I want the answer.

"Apparently someone was shagging Winne the Pooh." Tom replies matter-of-factly, holding the honey aloft.

I point at the bed and start to ask a question with another answer I'm sure I don't want "Who do you think..."

"Well it wouldn't be you really would it, Mr Single-and-ready-to-mingle, unless you have a much kinkier side than I anticipated and an invisible girlfriend." I'm not sure whether I should be insulted or relieved at Tom's reply. "But if it wasn't you, then it was me and that leads to something I don't even want to consider…" He trails off and a new frantic worry seems to set into his face.

"Oh God, say I didn't cheat on B'Elanna, oh I'm dead man, I am absolutely a dead man…" He starts pacing again.

If he has cheated, then yes, he's a dead man, B'Elanna will skin him for a new rug.

"Now wait a second Tom, you don't know that you did, maybe this was you and B'Elanna that… did whatever unspeakable acts took place in this bed." I'm trying to calm him down but I'm frankly rather disgusted with the possibilities of what took place.

"I don't care how drunk we were, B would never be into… honey..." I'm trying not to laugh but this is getting ridiculous. "B's more of a feral sex tiger than a…"

"Yes, thank you..." I cut him off before I hear things I really don't need to. "Maybe you reached a new level in your relationship."

"Maybe you should reach a new level in your relationship Chakotay! Oh, that's right, you don't have one!" Tom spits the words out with a scared fury. I know the man's frustrated, but that stung a bit. It's not from lack of trying to be in a relationship, it's just not as easy for everyone to transition into a full-blown relationship in the situation we're in out here in the Delta quadrant.

"Oh God I must have cheated, why?! Why was I that stupid!?" He rages as he continues to pace "Drunk-Tom is a prick!"

"So is sober Tom." I mutter under my breath, unable to stop myself. If he has cheated, I will personally make sure than B'Elanna gets her revenge and also serve my own revenge for dragging me into this shit show of a day.

"This is bad, this bad, bad, bad…" Tom stops pacing and looks at me directly, full of fear "What have I done?"

"Look, we don't know for sure and jumping to conclusions isn't going to help the situation, there could be a reasonable explanation."

"Reasonable explanation!? Reasonable explanation! There's a golden crown and a pot of honey Chakotay, I'd say we're far beyond reasonable fucking explanation!" Tom flops down on the couch, narrowly avoiding one of the plates of food and buries his head deep into his hands.

Things look bleak. We've just discovered a bear's sex dungeon and we seem no closer to finding out where Kathryn or B'Elanna are, or just what happened last night. The throbbing in my brain starts to become more intense and the effects of the hypo begin to wear off, this has been a most trying of days so far and I fear it's only going to get much worse.

Why can't it be yesterday again? Sure, we were facing a photonic invasion, but it was worth it to see her, her in that dress, her smiling, her….

Damnit Kathryn if I've… If we've… If something has happened to her, I will never forgive myself.

Never.

Why didn't I pick my Comm-badge up the following day? All of this could have been avoided if I had just gone back to my quarters and stayed there. Instead I'm here, in a world of shit.

I was hoping by now I'd know where Kathryn and B'Elanna were, I wasn't expecting a bread-crumb trail to nutso land and I was hoping to avoid using the ships systems to sniff them out, that leaves an inexplicable trail of our deceit and entanglement that would trigger Tuvok's inner-investigator and take things from being a mess swept under the carpet, to a brig ride home to probable court martial. As selfish as it was, I had decided not to leave my footprints in the dust of the ships systems and logs, but I'm going to have to swallow my bitter pill because if she doesn't appear by tomorrow, I'm going to be fucked anyway.

"Computer initiate a scan for Captain Kathryn Janeway's bio-signature." If this finds Kathryn okay, I will happily accept my punishment.

"Unable to comply, Captain Kathryn Janeway is not aboard." It was not the reply I was expecting, as my stomach falls through the deck and my vision begins to blur, I begin to let the terrifying darkness of reality creep in.

In order to initiate a scan outside of Voyager, I need to be on the Bridge, where a whole big o' can of worms will be opened in front of the crew. If Kathryn is not aboard, where the hell is she? We're well out of range of any planetary bodies and when I logged into the command unit this morning, all shuttles were present and accounted for. Also, there would have been a log for a shuttle launch and I'm sure someone would have noticed either me or Tom drunkenly bundling Kathryn into a shuttle and launching her defenceless into space.

Tom interrupts my musing with a long groan of despair.

"Computer initiate a scan for Lieutenant B'Elanna Torres." He squeaks quietly.

"Authorisation required" Tom looks at me pleadingly. Some of Tom's security codes were revoked when he was demoted, not all of them have been restored as of yet and although I want to think this is why the request is being denied, I know that he does in fact have authorisation for a bio-scan, all the crew does. It's more than likely that an individual security lock was placed on her whereabouts entirely, as though someone was covering their tracks of unspeakable deeds, and that someone was one of us.

For ten minutes we both try a variety of codes, but none of them work. "Someone" didn't want her found. "Someone" is one of us.

Scenarios have been rolling around the stormy seas of mind for a while now of what just could have happened.

Scenario 1: Tom in his drunken state, cheats on Torres with someone who apparently likes honey, B'Elanna caught them at it and he disposed of B'Elanna when it all kicked off.

Scenario 2: Tom in his drunken state, cheats on Torres with someone who is a complete degenerate, B'Elanna caught them at it, she takes off in fury and wants some alone time, has cloaked her whereabouts and will be stewing for days until she finally summons the courage to end Paris' life in a display of Klingon rage.

Scenario 3: B'Elanna was cheating on Tom, Tom catches them at it, he disposes of both of them in his rage… But this would mean another crew-member would be missing and only Kathryn is… Unless he caught Torres with Kath… Nope… Can't go there, completely impossible, Scenario three is complete nonsense…. But just the thought will give me enough material to fund the wank-bank all the way home.

Scenario 4: Tom in his drunken state, cheats on Torres with… Kathryn…. B'Elanna catches them, a fight to the death ensues and both Kathryn and Torres cause a black hole in their fury and the universe sucked them in to avoid the complete destruction of the galaxy that their battle would cause. The thought that Kathryn would sleep with Tom is about as likely as finding out Captain Kirk was celibate his entire life… It just isn't happening.

That is all my imagination has conjured so far. And it fills me a depression like I've never known before. Whatever happened last night is not going to have a happy ending for any of the parties involved and I may have lost Kathryn before I ever managed to… before…

"I can't sit in this room forever, someone's going to figure out what's going on sooner or later and the evidence of us all over the logs today are going to be noticed by Tuvok at some point." Tom echoes my own fears.

"Maybe that's a good thing, maybe it will help us find them." As much as I don't want to get into trouble, I want to find Kathryn more.

"And also find the quickest route to absolute doom." Tom sighs deeply with his reply.

"Is there something the Doctor can administer to help us remember last night?" It's worth a try in my opinion to at least ask.

"Not that I'm aware of, nothing that would work for sure, the only thing I can think of is mind-melding with Tuvok and that has to be the last resort, the absolute last resort…" Tom's answer is fair enough, if all roads lead to nothing, we'll go to Tuvok and pray the consequences aren't as severe as I know they'll be. A few more hours and then we'll bite the bullet, but the longer this goes on, the more danger Kathryn or B'Elanna could be in.

"If we did all this, if we were that drunk, we would have known we wouldn't remember the next day." Tom looks at me as he speaks as though he thinks he's onto something "I'm a complete idiot." I nod in agreement and continue to listen as he grows more excited as he talks "I'm an idiot and I know I'm an idiot, I would have left myself clues to what happened because I would know I wouldn't remember." His eyes flare with optimism.

What the fuck is he talking about?

Seriously, Tom Paris logic is completely inexplicable.

"Maybe we're looking at this all wrong, what if these are clues we left ourselves to try and solve this?"

"You're trying to tell me, we left ourselves clues that are completely insane to solve a mystery we created because…?" I wait for him to explain just how any of this makes sense.

"Who knows why you do what you do when you're drunk Chakotay, but maybe these are all hints that we're supposed to follow to solve this."

"And you put mysterious security codes on everything to cover your tracks because that would help you find B'Elanna and Janeway… How exactly? You're talking nonsense Paris." I think he's lost the plot, this is completely insane.

Why would we go to all this trouble? Why would we just start the worst treasure hunt in history? My reply seems to have deflated his optimism as he noticeably shrinks back in his stance, rubs his eyes and starts to bite his fingernails.

"I don't want to admit that I might be responsible for hurting B'Elanna in some way." It's the first thing Tom has said that I fully understand. "If I've done something to her… if she's not okay because of me… How will I live with myself Chakotay, I love her..." The look in his eyes is more than genuine and is a mirror of how I'm currently feeling myself.

I've never doubted Tom's love for B'Elanna, but I've also never doubted how much of an idiot he is but I know he will torture himself for all eternity and so will I.

"It'll be okay Paris, we'll figure this out and we'll find them." It's a real attempt at consoling him, but my lack of social skills makes it difficult to fully express to people at the best of times, especially not when this madness is taking place and I regret not being able to offer him more of an assurance that this will be okay.

"Yeah right…" He scoffs "…And hell might freeze over..." He trails off and then suddenly his eyes blaze with something before a look of pure distress settles on his face.

"What, what is it?"

"I just remember something." He admits with glaring eyes.

"What!? What do you remember?"

"I think I know where B is… and if I'm right, I'm about to be as single as Neelix at a pool party." He finishes his sentence as he starts sprinting towards the door. I follow behind confused as ever and terrified as to where we're going.


	6. Spider Parlours Chapter 6

**Disclaimer** : I don't own them, I wish I did, but I don't. Go watch the show and thank the powers that be for a loveable series. Please don't sue me. I'm poor and have nothing better to do with my life.

Authors Notes: As usual, profanity, bad formatting, terrible plots and horrendous grammar. Apologies and thanks if you're still reading.

* * *

 **One Web in Front of Another.**

I have no idea where Tom is taking me, he's so far refused to say a word since we got in the Turbo-lift, instead he focuses on chewing his finger nails and the occasional prayer under his breath between pacing and fretting.

When the lift stops and the doors open, he takes off quicker than an uninvited mouse at a cat party. I've never seen him move with such speed in the entire time I've known him accept the one-time Neelix found what was arguably the best bacon substitute the Delta Quadrant has and held a bacon party in the Mess-hall.

"Are you going to tell me where we're going?" I ask as I follow him along the corridor.

"Sickbay." Comes the curt reply.

Sickbay? He put Torres in Sickbay?

Within seconds we're outside Sickbay and Tom is sweating with an intense fear. He takes a few deep breaths and then we enter. Thankfully it's deserted, the Doctor doesn't appear to be activated which will make things go a lot smoother, but I can honestly say I'm absolute intrigued as to what's going on. Striding through the Doctors office and the lab, Tom comes to stop before the wall of morgue units for body storage.

A real dread begins to build in me.

He can't of… he wouldn't of… She can't be… If there's a dead body in this drawer, I swear to the spirits I will tell Tuvok everything, I'll sing like a canary because shit just got serious.

Gingerly Tom reaches for the control panel, gives me one final look of despair, braces himself and opens the unit.

A long drawer slowly slides out, a long drawer containing the very much alive and very, very much pissed off B'Elanna Torres.

"YOU ABSOLUTE P'TAK!" She's shivering with cold but there's a fire of fury burning in her eyes that is completely terrifying. "YOU LOCKED ME IN THIS FUCKING THING ALL NIGHT!"

"B..." Tom tries to interrupt her but unless the ship suddenly rips apart and we all suddenly die in the icy expanse of space, nothing and no one is going to stop B'Elanna from verbally destroying Tom Paris.

"YOU ARE SO DENSE LIGHT BENDS AROUND YOU! I'VE NEVER MET A BIGGER IDIOT IN MY ENTIRE LIFE, WHAT THE HELL WAS I THINKING BEING WITH YOU!?" I'm trying my best to not laugh as B'Elanna rages with the power of thousand suns, Tom has picked a spot on the floor to stare at as he is roasted, it's like watching a child being reprimanded by his mother.

"I swear to Kahless, if I had Bat'Leth right now I'd castrate you on the spot!" She shoves him hard in the chest away from her and swings her legs round onto the floor before standing on shaky legs. "You are the worst thing that has ever happened to me Flyboy and I'm going to let you know that in as many ways as I can possible imagine." She spits out the words as though they were filth in her mouth and "I can't even begin to describe just how much I hate you right now."

"B… I know..."

"Nothing..." She interrupts "...Absolutely nothing, you are the stupidest person I have ever known, what fuck is wrong with you!?"

"I don't know, and I mean that, I really don't know, we can't remember anything from last night."

"Nice try Flyboy, you're got getting out of this that easy!"

As much as I don't want to defend Tom, seeing as he locked B'Elanna in a morgue drawer for the entire night, but how things got to that point, we really don't know and B'Elanna can fill in the blanks for us that will then hopefully lead to Kathryn.

"B'Elanna, he really doesn't remember, neither of us do. It's taken us this long to find you." I try my best doe eyes as I speak, in hopes that it will placate the monster lurking behind her eyes currently. She shakes her head first in incredulousness, looking back and forth between the two of us before realising we really don't have a clue.

"You really don't remember?"

We both shake our heads in unison.

"And we don't know where the Captain is, all we have is her Comm-badge and we're more than a little concerned as to whether we had anything to do with it." I admit.

B'Elanna stares at me wide-eyed for a moment before choking on an unmistakable giggle.

"Oh boy, you really don't remember do you?" She laughs.

Again, we shake our heads in unison and I brace myself ready for the oncoming onslaught just what we did last night.

"This is going to be fun." Her eyes flare with joy "Don't think this gets you off the hook though, although I'm pretty sure you're both about to be in a world of shit." Oh Gods, I don't like the sound of this. Something wicked this way comes.

I swear to the Spirits I am never drinking this much ever again, that's if I ever drink again. Although to be in the state we were I'm pretty sure that we probably drank through most of my supply of cider and there's a sadness I wasn't expecting in knowing that.

My cider stash was my little secret, the one thing on this ship that was solely mine and mine alone and it was the one comfort I had in this otherwise uncomfortable existence. I've never been a real big drinker in my life, cider is usually as far as it goes but anyone that has had any reasonable experience with cider knows that some is more than enough and in order to get blackout drunk, we had to have drained most of the bottles.

There's something about knowing that if we do figure out where Kathryn is, that I will probably never share another glass with her, that feels me such a depression. Kathryn herself is rather partial to a few glasses of cider and also an incredible lightweight, often becoming giddy after only a glass and becomes the relaxed Kathryn who lets herself laugh and smile more than my heart can bear. Even if we do find her, there's a chance that whatever occurred last night will cause her to never speak to me again and I really don't know if I can handle that.

As I've let my thoughts wonder, I've been trying desperately to zone out the worst of the verbal tongue-lashing Paris is currently receiving from Torres, her arms are flailing and her cheeks are red with the effort of dressing him down and it occurs to me I might not be the only one who might end up never being able to talk to his beloved again…

"I'm sorry B, I really am." Tom has his classic remorseful face on but B'Elanna pays it and the apology no attention and walks stiffly through to the Doctor's office before taking a seat at his desk.

"Can you take this security lock off my Comm-badge, I'm nearly 4 hours late for my shift at this point and I can only imagine the chaos." She passes her badge to a blank faced Tom.

"Uhm… I don't remember the code." He admits quietly.

Torres sighs deeply and rolls her eyes in annoyance "Try 'I am the king of Voyager' dumbass."

Tom looks confused as all hell but tries it none the less, the confusion only growing when the authorisation works. With a frown he hands the badge back to visibly pissed off Torres.

"I'll meet you both in _my_ quarters..." Uh oh, looks like Harry may be about to gain a roommate "... in... say… twenty minutes, I need to get hold of engineering and sort myself out." She dismisses us both with her hand, like she was shooing naughty children from her presence and we both amble into the corridor with our tails between our legs.

"Swap lives with me." Tom pleads meekly.

"Not a chance, I'd rather dip myself in seasoning and throw myself to the lions." I really would, I've dealt with enough of B'Elanna's rage over the years than was ever really necessary. I've seen her break enough people's faces to know I'm not getting involved.

"What was I thinking last night?!" He rubs his head with agitation as he speaks. "I sorta remember thinking that the one good place to hide B'Elanna was the morgue, but for what reason, I don't know, I have no idea why I wanted to hide her." He shakes his head in disbelief at himself and we start walking to the Turbo-lift.

"Maybe you guys had a fight…" Not completely out of the realm of possibilities, they do fight more than they do anything else, relationships built on passion tend to be fiery on all angles and Gods know even I've thought about bundling a few people into a cupboard and leaving them there when I've been having a particularly trying day, but he actually went ahead and did it… Drunk Paris really is a prick.

Tom hits the lift panel with slightly more force than necessary to call it, and sighs deeply.

"What if I did something worse to the Captain? I'm not just going to be demoted, I'm going to be de-headed…" He groans and we both step into the now waiting lift.

"We both will be, so at least you won't be alone Paris."

"I'm pretty sure I'm going to be alone all the way back to the Alpha quadrant after today."

I want to console him in some way, but the fact is, I fear the same. Always have. The fear has only grown more intense as the minutes go by and Kathryn remains missing. Without Kathryn, nothing will be as it should, without Kathryn nothing will have meaning. As the lift comes to a stop and we ready ourselves to find out what went on last night, I wonder if this is the end of everything for me.

Thinking about it I could use some consoling myself.


	7. Spider Parlours Chapter 7

**Disclaimer** : I don't own them, I wish I did, but I don't. Go watch the show and thank the powers that be for a loveable series. Please don't sue me. I'm poor and have nothing better to do with my life.

 **Author's notes:** Incoming truths, reveals and twists-a-plenty. Also cursing, regret, terrible formatting, questionable grammar, sloppy plot and confusing writing. It's also a bit of a monster in length so apologies, anything in italics is the previous night's events.

* * *

 **Exit between the Strands.**

"You ready? This isn't going to pretty at all." B'Elanna, newly showered, quickly fed and somewhat warmer sits at the table in her quarters, avoiding eye contact with Tom and full of glee, something which unnerves me.

As much as I want to know about last night, I just want all this to be over, for everything to go back to normal, riding into another unknown adventure with Kathryn by my side. This might be one the one thing that isn't going to be sorted and wrapped up in a pretty bow by next week and I'm scared of what Drunk-Chakotay is capable of.

Tom and I exchange worried glances before residing ourselves to the fate of our binge-drinking stupidity, nodding in affirmation that we need to know.

As she starts to speak, the truth begins to peek out behind the glaring sun of our hangovers, I lose myself to the fear that all the secrets I've herded in my soul are spilling out regardless of my intense desire to have my world private away from the prying eyes of the crew.

The more Torres says, the more I begin to remember and the more I wish I hadn't woken up this morning.

* * *

 _ **The Previous Night**_

" _Welcome back old man, starting to forget things in our old age, are we?" Torres answers the door with a smug grin, holding my Comm-badge like a trophy._

" _You wait till you hit my age, see how much you remember." I smile and take the badge with a mutter of gratitude before turning to leave._

" _Chakotay why don't you stay a bit longer, you're probably just going to be sitting alone in your quarters anyway." She smirks as she speaks, and a minor frustration runs through me._

" _You don't know me." I mock, fact is, she does, probably better than anyone else on the ship and the fact she knew I would be brooding alone in the dark, fills me with a shame._

 _I'm pathetic._

" _Come on Chuck, bring the cider back and stay a while!" Tom yells from within, raising an empty glass in the air._

 _Chuck!? Who the fuck is Chuck!? He's definitely been soaking in his drunken idiocy._

 _Maybe I should hang around, Gods knows I could use a night off of navel-gazing myself into oblivion, the company will do me good, besides what's the worst that could happen?_

" _Fine." I surrender, pinning my badge back into place and stepping into the room "But don't blame me when Paris is hungover and late for duty tomorrow" I joke._

 _A chorus of cheers erupt from my companions and we settle at the table once more with full glasses of cider._

" _You shouldn't spend so much time alone Chakotay, it's not good for you." Torres says over her drink as she locks eyes with me._

 _Torres is right. I don't want to give her the satisfaction of saying that, I'm not particularly choosing to spend my time alone but at this point I can't spend my time with the person I want to, she's too busy behind her Captain persona to stop torturing us both into loneliness._

" _B's right Chakotay..." Agrees Tom "You do too much of that darkly brooding... thing..." He trails off more interested in his glass of cider._

" _I'm not trying to…" I insist, not completely believing my own lie, I don't particularly try to do anything else, misery loves company and boy does misery love me._

" _Libby always liked the thoughtful quiet types." Interjects Harry to a sea of rolling eyes._

" _Ahh fuck Libby!" Spits Tom, Harry's face widens with shock "All I ever hear is Libby, Libby, Libby and if it's not Libby, it's your mother and your clarinet." Tom drains the rest of his glass and grabs the bottle to refill as we all remain shocked into silence but the outburst. Poor Harry doesn't look like he knows what to say, Torres is both shocked and delighted if the twinkle in her eye is anything to go by._

" _I cannot spend the next fifty years listening to you go on and on and on about them, move on Harry, life won't be waiting for you so don't wait for it." Reasons Tom, which softens Harry slightly enough to stop looking like a shocked trout but even I feel a bit sorry for him, it was a bit harsh, but he's got to let it all go eventually. The hypocrisy of my thoughts doesn't escape me, I know full well I'm holding on to things… and people… well one person… far longer than I should._

" _I don't want to give up on what's got me through so far." The awkward silence that hangs after Harry speaks is uncomfortable._

 _Poor boy._

 _Tom's hit a sore spot in both of us. Harry wears his heart on the tunic of his uniform as though just showing it to the enemy will make them feel sorry for him and change their minds about killing him, he's an open book of emotions and insecurity that has yet to fully dull in the Delta quadrant, what is getting him through is the thought that he might be able to just pick up where he left off like nothing happened failing to provide himself with a backup plan when the inevitable opposite happens if we do ever get home._

 _The problem is, I am not an open book, at least I don't think I'm as obvious with my emotions as I fear I am, and they don't know what is festering in my soul, or rather who is driving me distraction daily and makes me question myself more than I ever have in my entire life. They don't know the demons that haunt me or the worries and fears that keep me awake and they certainly don't know the extent that Kathryn's claws have reached into me._

 _At least I hope not._

" _It's not giving up Harry, it's living your life, no one would ever expect you to put your life on pause, sometimes it's better to be happy than to be regretful." Says Torres, her eyes locked on me for every word._

 _She knows._

 _Harry nods slowly and downs his drink in one while Tom pats him encouragingly on the back and refills his glass, the bottle is nearly empty, I should probably get another..._

" _Where's the secret stash Chakotay, we're running low" Tom gestures to the bottle as though he read my mind._

" _I'm not telling you in a million years." I laugh. He'd drink the lot before daybreak given the chance._

" _I'll go, I know where it is." Torres says as she rises. How the hell does she know where I hid it!? No one knows, or is she bluffing?_

" _Still in the cargo bay?" She whispers._

 _Well I'll be damned._

" _Yes and I'd quite like to know how you know that." Does she have surveillance on me?_

" _You're an easy man to stalk when you've been drinking" Apparently yes, drunk surveillance. I don't drink often but I admit when I do, I make it count._

 _B'Elanna smiles and leaves to fetch the cider as an awkward silence once more falls on the remaining party._

 _For a few agonising minutes it remains silent until Tom finally sits forward, his red cheeks blooming with the effects of the drink and no doubt embarrassment at snapping at Harry._

" _I didn't mean to upset you Harry." Apologises Tom. Harry has been sat with somewhat of a sullen face since Tom's little outburst. It was bound to happen at some point, it admittedly drives me nuts to hear Harry droning on at length sometimes about the same things over and over, but we all do it at one point or another, I just tend to walk off somewhere else when he gets going._

" _It's okay, it's just… when you've not known a lot else… it's hard." Harry's voice trembles slightly and for one awful moment, I wonder if he's about to cry, instead he burps. Loudly._

" _Charming." Scoffs Tom. "How about we don't go down the rabbit hole of depression and instead we enjoy ourselves. We put an end to the nefarious plans of Dr Chaotica and I feel we should celebrate."_

" _I think we should celebrate the fact you could say nefarious in the state you're in Tom" I say with a grin._

" _Oh, I'm just getting started buddy." Tom claps his hands together as he speaks "I fully intend on not being able to pronounce my own name later." Harry hiccups in reply "Although it looks like Har's ahead of me already."_

 _"To not being alone!" Harry yells suddenly and raises his empty glass._

" _You usually need something to toast with Har." Tom points at his empty glass as he speaks._

 _As if by cosmic timing, Torres returns, more bottles of cider in her arms than I was willing to share but I don't want to be a buzz killer._

" _Party on!" Tom yells and soon the glasses are refilled, the conversation begins flowing once more and Harry becomes drunker than I've ever seen._

" _What do you call a hen looking at a lettuce?" slurs Harry, who is already laughing in anticipation of the punchline he's yet to deliver while Torres rolls her eyes, the last few jokes he's delivered have been simply awful._

" _A Chicken-sees-a-salad!" He starts laughing hysterically before turning a living shade of white and clapping a hand over his mouth._

" _Bathroom Harry, go!" B'Elanna points towards the head and sighs deeply, for as drunk as we are, she is remarkably level-headed, she always has been able to drink most people under the table._

 _Harry staggers off towards the head while Tom drains his glass again, the guy can drink faster than he thinks._

" _We should do something to cheer Harry up, set him up on a date or something." Torres suggestion is met with silence. "Or maybe you should wing-man with Harry." She looks at me as she talks and is rewarded with a chorus of snorted laughter. She looks at us confused "What? Why is that ridiculous? I know for a fact you'd both be far more popular with the ladies if you just step out of your comfort zone."_

" _They'd also both have more women to strike out with." Laughs Tom "They aren't exactly the smoothest duo." He pours more cider and smiles to himself._

" _Says the man who had to kidnap the Captain in order to procreate." I snort, but even I know it sounded as bitter as I meant it._

" _What can I say? Boldly going where no man… lizard… has gone before." Tom smiles to himself but I'm filled with a rage that makes me want to punch him in the head._

" _Careful Tom." I warn "Otherwise my fist might boldly meet you in the face." I end the sentence with a snarl I wasn't intending._

" _Hey, hey, hey! Calm down! There's enough testosterone for all of you." Torres gestures for us to simmer down, while the sound of Harry loudly retching fills the cabin._

" _It's okay B, if he does hit me he'll have to explain why he's so concerned with the Captain's honour once and for all."_

" _Don't start with me Paris..." I start to rise out of my seat but B'Elanna pushes me back down with one hand._

" _Sorry, my bad!" Tom raises is arms in mock surrender "We'll just carry on pretending we don't know he's in love with the Captain." He snorts and continues drinking while a red haze settles over my vision and my heart begins to thump out of my chest._

" _You're way out of line Paris." The anger begins in rise in a heated fury, my palms are sweating and a slight tremble has overtaken my hands._

" _Yes I am..." He happily admits "…I'm also right."_

 _Well…. Fuck…_

 _Then it happens._

 _I burst into full ugly crying face, sobbing and heaving behind my hands._

 _I can only imagine the faces of Torres and Paris right now, I'm desperately hiding behind my hands as though they can stem the flow of salty tears running down my face, hoping that perhaps there's a possibility I can pretend this didn't just happen and we can move on and never discuss this again._

 _Ever._

" _Damn Chakotay, I didn't mean… I didn't intend… Oh man…" Tom lays a hand on my shoulder as he speaks, and surprisingly I don't push him away._

 _This is why I don't drink very often or in public, I venture to the maudlin side of myself too often as it is, alcohol only feeds its intensity. As long as I don't start talking about it… about her… I'll be fine._

" _I've tried not to be, I just can't stop it." I sob between heaves._

 _Bollocks._

 _So much for not talking about her._

" _The more I try to get her out of my head, the more she gets in there, doesn't matter what I do… Try sitting two feet from the person you love everyday knowing you can't have her." The sobs become more intense as I speak, and I am going to fully regret everything about this evening in the morning. This is becoming a nightmare. I have had actual nightmares about this happening, about finally admitting how I feel about Kathryn and worse, I'm doing it drunk, the one thing I swore I would never dishonour her by doing but I seem so good at dishonouring her._

" _Who say's you can't be with her Chakotay?" Torre's ask as she rubs my back soothingly._

" _She does…" I'm going to hate myself so much for this tomorrow. Not only have I admitted I have feelings, but that she is aware of them and has friend-zoned me into oblivion._

" _What? She actually said that?" Torres looks shocked, as does Tom who is looking extremely awkward at the scene he ignited before him._

" _Yes." I admit. "She feels it would distract her from her duties as Captain and that protocol doesn't really allow for a Captain to date her former-terrorist First-Officer."_

" _She's using protocol as an excuse?" Scoffs Torres, one hand going to her hip in aggravation, much like Kathryn does and that only fuels the sobbing with intensity. I nod in agreement through my tears and I know that if Kathryn knew this conversation has taken place, she would air-lock me before I had a chance to dry my face._

" _That is bullshit." Torres concludes angrily. "There's been more than enough Captain's spreading their seed through the universe in Starfleet, why is Janeway the exception?"_

" _Look at who she is B'Elanna, a female Captain in a sea of men, she probably thinks that her peers and naysayers are expecting her to fail, for her to be less than professional with the crew, they're waiting for her to fail in any way, shape or form and she knows that, it would be ammunition for them. She doesn't want to arrive back having to explain not only the Marquis integration into the crew but throw in sleeping with the First-Officer who was the leader of said movement, she'd be screwed, she'd be in the cells next to ours. Not only that, she thinks she'd lose the respect of the crew and they'd think I'd be getting preferential treatment anytime something came up and admittedly she would probably would treat me different from the crew if we were together, so she doesn't want to make that an issue."_

" _They can't reprimand her for being human." Torres attempts to reason, but she is unaware that this is beyond reason and I have lost many hours of my life trying to deny that._

" _She reprimands herself half the time." Tom hits the nail on the head with the first sensible thing I've ever heard him say. Torres agrees with a nod and fills our glasses once more to the sounds of my hiccupped sobbing and Harry's loud retching._

" _I've tried to move on, I really have, but I can't… And as long as I serve aboard this ship and Kathryn's the Captain, I can't be with her, it kills me."_

" _Fuck protocol!" Tom spits "Fuck it!"_

" _Well that was helpful." B'Elanna rolls her eyes._

 _Tom shakes his head and begins to speak "Seriously, if I had a ration for every time protocol got in my way of doing something..."_

" _I'd be a king!" I chime in, finishing his sentence and before I realise it we're high-fiving. It's like the man is living in my head today, it's getting weird…_

 _Harry had stumbled out of the head as we had talked, slouched and dragging like a zombie full of brains, a grey pallor residing on his face and a look of pure misery. He make's it close to the table, stops suddenly, raises a head as if to pause us, turns and pulls out the top drawer of Tom's unit and vomits._

" _Good God man, have you no morals!" Tom says with a disgusted face as B'Elanna rises to go tend to Harry._

" _You're paying for this Harry, I'm gonna need more antibacterial scrub that my rations can afford." B'Elanna says sternly._

" _Soooooooooorrrry…" Comes the drunken apology "…I thought it would be better than the door… I mean floor…" Harry belches loudly and stumbles to the couch._

" _Right, who's taking Ensign Light-Weight back to his quarters?" B'Elanna looks between Tom and I, both of us point to each other. "One of you will have to, I can't carry him all the way back and he's certainly not walking alone." She nods her head to a now snoring Harry, dribbling on the couch._

 _Tom and I narrow our gaze on each other and unprompted we both start a furious game of rock, paper, scissors, which I lose in spectacular fashion. While Tom celebrates with a shuffling dance towards B'Elanna, I force myself to stand and venture over to Harry who is now blowing spit bubbles in his slumber._

" _Come of Harry, time to go to your own bed." I hoist him to his feet and wrap a stabilising arm around him and begin the slow stagger towards the door._

" _Chakotay before you go…" Tom staggers over and through droopy eyes attempts to become serious. "… Don't let protocol be the reason you're not with her, think of them more like ignorable guidelines." He smiles._

 _If only I could._

" _Seriously, the reason we knew is because a blind person could perceive the gazes you give each other when you think no ones looking, she doesn't smile like that with anyone else Chakotay, talk to her… And if all fails, mutiny, then she won't be the Captain and you can do what you like." He winks and salutes me out the door before returning to B'Elanna's arms._


	8. Spider Parlours Chapter 8

**Disclaimer** : I don't own them, I wish I did, but I don't. Go watch the show and thank the powers that be for a loveable series. Please don't sue me. I'm poor and have nothing better to do with my life.

 **Authors notes:** Anything in italics is the previous nights events, apologies for the confusion of jumping between the time shifts and also for my horrendous writing ability. Avoid eating or drinking towards the end of this chapter, slight choking hazard ahead.

* * *

 **Not All Webs Blow Away**

 **The Present**

I'm wincing.

My face is burning with how bright my embarrassment is.

Tom is staring at the wall with a fierce concentration.

"Is this jigging your memory at all?" Torres smiles smugly.

Tom and I nod in unison and surrender to the rest of the memories waiting to be unlocked. I'm filling in as much as I can but Tom is remaining suspiciously silent. I'm still unsure as to how B'Elanna ended up in the morgue and I still can't entirely remember where Kathryn is, but as Tom starts to slowly and quietly explain in between my own titbits of memory, the day continues to get progressively worse.

* * *

 _ **The Previous Night**_

" _Come on Harry, not much further." Harry is almost completely asleep, I'm dragging him down the corridor with his legs trailing behind._

 _How do I keep ending up in these situations?_

 _Why can I not just let this go?_

 _If I did, it would minimise these uncomfortable moments._

 _I can't believe I said what I said, Kathryn will kill me. Why can't I just shut my big mouth? Why do they have to be so bloody perceptive…? Then again maybe I'm just not that conspicuous. Maybe I do gaze at her too much, maybe I do make it too obvious…_

 _But if I do it's because this is all slowly killing me. These games of cat and mouse are exhausting and we're both keeping it going at this point. For someone who doesn't want me, she does seem to want me quite a bit… And I want her. And this is far more complicated than I ever wanted._

 _But I know it's for the best, that I must make do with what I have and be grateful._

 _But I can't._

 _And I can't because I know the truth._

 _The really unspeakable truth._

 _The unspeakable truth that goes to the grave with me._

 _Harry groans loudly as my brain reaches a decision I didn't realising I was making. Pressing a code into Harry's door, I slowly realise he's changed it and I don't know it and he's not anywhere near coherent enough to tell me. Unable to override it, I gently slide him to the floor propped up against his door._

" _Goodnight Harry." He snores in reply._

 _To be that unaware right now…_

 _Before I can change my mind, I hit my Comm-badge._

" _Chakotay to Janeway."_

" _Go ahead."_

" _Meet me." I start walking before my brain catches up with my heart and into to futures unknown._

* * *

 **The present**

"After you left me alone with this idiot..." B'Elanna gestures to Tom with a stab of her finger in the air "…He only got more idiotic." Tom nods in agreement, say what you want about the guy but at least he knows he's an idiot, there aren't many who would agree they were an idiot, but he's at such a level he's transcended idiocy into his own brand of fuck-up. Quite remarkable really.

"Tom felt guilty about upsetting you and what he said but…" She trails off looking at Tom like she needs permission to continue but decides he's an idiot and she'll say what she wants. "…when he's drunk once he gets something into his head, there's usually no stopping him short of a nerve pinch." Tom again nods in agreement.

"He went on this long rant about how Janeway cares more about protocol than her crew and how she shouldn't have put him in the Brig for doing the right thing and that if he was in charge, things would be more different."

Oh no.

"And that if Kathryn wasn't the Captain, that maybe that would leave the door open for the two of you."

Oh Lord.

Tom shakes his head in shame and picks a spot on the floor to look at again.

"So he decided he should prove he was more than capable of running the ship without protocols and Starfleet rule."

Oh Gods….

This is really bringing it all back now and I don't want the next bit to have happened, but I know it did.

"So, he starts by replicating himself a crown and sceptre from the rations he's been gambling with to prove that without Starfleet's regulations on gambling as he put it 'the rewards would be bountiful'… such a tool." B'Elanna shakes her head and sighs into her hand.

"I had the right idea, but wrong application." Tom insists.

"Now if I had a ration for every time I heard that…" She scowls at him and Tom goes back to looking at the carpet. "He then crowned himself 'The King of Voyager' and vowed to reign as a reasonable being, he also declared Friday pancake day and ate a shit ton of pancakes in celebration and then he announced was promoting Neelix to First officer."

"Oh well now that's just a bad choice." Tom admits "That was absolutely the drink speaking."

"And the rest wasn't?" Torres is met with silence. "So, he decided the first thing he needed to attend to was demoting the Captain so that you could have your happy ever after. I spent probably an hour trying to reason with him, only to realise you can't reason with stupid, especially if stupid is drunk." True. Very true.

"I had my heart in the right place." Tom mumbles before getting himself a drink from the replicator.

"The problem wasn't your heart Tom, it's that your brain and your balls reside in the same place." Torres points out. "He was so drunk by that point, he passed out on the couch and I went to bed looking forward to a good night's sleep without him snoring in my ears." Tom scoffs and drinks his water. "What I didn't count on, was this moron waking up in the middle of the night, carrying me to sickbay and locking me in a morgue draw, I woke up to him shutting the door and that is all I know about the adventures of Frick and Frack." Torres finishes speaking and rubs her eyes.

I look at Tom and wonder if he's going to fill in the next bit or whether I have to show the hand of cards I've been holding very close to myself.

"I kinda remember, but it's still a bit hazy." Tom begins. "I remember thinking I didn't want B'Elanna to get in the way of the most genius plan I've ever hatched." Torres shoots him daggers and sighs deeply once more.

Tom sits down at the table and puts his head into his hands before continuing the story of the worst night on Voyager thus experienced. Including that time that giant space thing ate us.

"Janeway wasn't in her quarters so I went looking for her, until I asked the computer which said she was in the guest quarters, so off I went to demote her." He tries to laugh but even he knows this is beyond a laughing matter. "I found…."

Please don't Tom.

Please.

If you owe me anything it's to not say what you're going to say.

He looks at me nervously.

"… I saw… I found her badge in the Quarter's… I took it, pinned it on myself, declared myself Captain and then drank the rest of the cider I found."

B'Elanna eyes him suspiciously "So what happened to the Captain, where is she?"

Oh God.

Oh God.

I need to go right now.

"Umm…" I start, unsure of how to finish. "...I think I remember…. Tom can you come give me a hand?" Tom nods insistently and we both start to the door at an alarming pace.

"Wait, you're not going to tell me! After all you put me through, you're not telling me?"

"I'll tell you later B, we have to go get the Captain." Tom shouts across his shoulder, not stopping in his speed to the door and before she can reply, the door is closed and we're sprinting down the corridor.

"I'm so screwed." I puff with the effort of running and speaking. It's my turn to reside myself to the fact that I've majorly screwed up.

"Finally, it's not just me." Tom laughs and we get into the Turbo-lift towards what is possibly going to be the worst tongue lashing of my life. I usually love a good tongue lashing, Kathryn is her sexiest when she's raging like a tornado in a china shop but this is going to be much different, much less sexy than I would hope. Tom leans against the lift wall and pants, he needs to start working out again.

"Thank you, Tom." I whisper.

"Don't mention it… Like really, don't, B will kill me for not saying anything." He waves a hand across his throat for effect and I realise I have seriously underestimated Tom for a long time.

"…What did you see?"

"Let's put it this way it was enough to make me drop my Crown Jewels." I can't help but laugh at this, I'm sure I would have reacted in the same way. "Even if you hadn't attempted the worst cover-up attempt known the mankind, just the badge being there… would… have been enough…" He trails off and I'm thankful he's not getting in specifics. We've got far bigger fish to fry, like a freaking whale of fish.

The lift stops and we both sprint out and down the corridor. As we enter the door leading to doom, I'm grateful for one small thing, I forgot to tell Seven the transporters we're malfunctioning.

The few moments it takes for Tom to start tapping on the console and manually release the pattern buffer, I think of my life and whether I had truly lived it to the fullest because in a few seconds I'm about to be annihilated. I think of my regrets, of the highs and the lowest lows, I think of good times, the sad times, the hard times and whether it was all worth it.

As the transporter begins to whirl, I decide it was.

By the time Kathryn rematerializes, naked as the day she was born, hands on her hips and the sternest of death glares in effect, I decide it was absolutely worth it.

She mutters three words.

"Ready Room, now."


	9. Spider Parlours Chapter 9

**Disclaimer** : I don't own them, I wish I did, but I don't. Go watch the show and thank the powers that be for a loveable series. Please don't sue me. I'm poor and have nothing better to do with my life.

 **Authors notes:** If you've made it this far, you deserve a medal. I apologise entirely for the mess I make of these nonsensical writings but I hope at least a raised a smile and a mild tittering of laughter. I know I have an insane mind but if anyone gets any enjoyment out of it, then it's all worthwhile.

* * *

 **The Weaving Conclusion**

The next hour was filled with some of the most creative use of cursing I've heard in a long time, some of the most descriptive language I've ever heard to describe myself and Tom, one of the long running profanity strewn sentence's I've ever experienced and the most awkward dressing-down either of us would ever receive.

"There will be not a word of this to the crew, understand me, that goes for B'Elanna as well, and if I see even a sniff of any of this in report, I will personally flush you out the sewage system myself, understood?"

Tom looks at me with deep regret, I know his hangover has probably returned to full mast as has my own, we had both been stoically staring at the floor the entire time Kathryn raged, but I can't help but feel Tom's getting off easy here, I'm going to get a whole new asshole ripped for me when he leaves, she will torture me with this for a decade. If not longer.

And more than anything I fear this will be the end of us and any hope I would have for a relationship with her.

"Understood." We speak in unison, not for the first time today.

"Get out of my sight, your holo-privileges are revoked for the next three months, and I expect you to melt down that ridiculous crown for resources by the end of the day Mr Paris." She spits out the words with a fiery intent and sits down with a fresh cup of coffee, the fourth she's had since we entered this room of misery and doom. "If not, I will find you and I will destroy you." She glares at him with a red menace and turns her attention to a Padd and her coffee as she dismisses us with a wave of her hand.

Just as we reach the door and thoughts that I might get to recover slightly before my next Janeway annihilation, her voice knifes through the air.

"Stay where you are Mr Chakotay." The voice is filled with dark fury.

Shit.

I'm fucked.

I want to say, "It was nice knowing you" to Tom, but I'd be lying, he's been nothing but an interfering pain in the ass. He transmits me a look of sympathy and disappears behind the door.

The worst silence of my life then ensues for an agonising five full minutes until she speaks.

"Perhaps next time you transport me, you check they're working fully."

"Understood." My reply is quick and precise, she's not messing around and I don't want to piss her off anymore than she already is, but I doubt that's even possible.

"Also, if you wouldn't mind doing it only when I'm fully clothed, that would also be a bonus." I'd laugh at her but the scowl currently residing on her face lets me know it would only lead to more doom. "What does Paris know?" Her face looks more worried now, anxious.

"Not much at the best of times, but it's taken us all day to find you, I'd say its safe to say he doesn't remember much and what he does he thinks is unreliable."

"Good, otherwise I would have to air lock considering." I wish she was joking but I don't think she is.

"Kathryn…"

"Don't even begin Chakotay, she interrupts my intended apology and waves a finger to emphasis. "There isn't much you could say right now that won't make me want to demote you to Cargo Bay rat." I believe her, but I need to apologise, not that I'm sure I know how to put it into words.

"We said this wouldn't get messy." She locks eyes with me.

"I know." I admit, sadly.

"This is messy." Kathryn takes a sip of coffee and eyes me with her own sadness.

"It could be worse." I offer, and I immediately regret saying it.

"It could be worse!? A crewman found us in bed together and you panicked and transported me and held me in a pattern buffer all-night!" She waves her hands emphatically and buries her face behind her hand.

"Firstly, technically that is not my fault, the automatic release is malfunctioning, and the patterns have to be manually released and secondly, he remembers nothing…" I lie, hoping to the spirits that he mentally blocks out not only the sight of us fucking when he entered the room in his crown, but the sight of Kathryn naked. That should be a sight for me and me only. "They think that we're just friends because you don't want anything to happen while you're the Captain."

"Even after his interruption last night, that was slightly more than friends Chakotay."

"He was too drunk to remember." I feel bad lying but she would never believe me if I said Paris was actually being entirely discreet about it and would deny any knowledge as far as I knew, he is completely trustworthy of this secret.

"You better hope so Chakotay." There's a sad desperation behind her words that hits me in the stomach. She really is scared our little secret is about to get… well… not so little… more of a giant whopper….

"Kathryn, I'm sorry, I really am, I know you don't want to hear it right now, or don't believe me but I do mean it, I really do. I don't regret it however." She rolls her eyes at my words and sighs deeply. "Being with you is more than anything I could ever regret, and I never will regret it. We had one slip up, one! That's not bad in the nearly three years this has been happening, I'm surprised it didn't happen sooner."

"Which is exactly why I was worried about this Chakotay, it's bad enough I'm breaking every rule her, we promised this wouldn't get in the way of command or the day to day running of this ship, this is the kind of distraction I didn't want, I knew it would interfere with being the Captain and that as long as I am, this wouldn't work."

"Well I think we did pretty well considering, this has been some of my best creative thinking… Look ever since that first night, back when Seven joined the ship and you were technically still not Captain after your head injury..."

Kathryn interrupts "I still blame the head injury for all of this, I must have sustained brain damage to ever think this was a good idea!"

"Kathryn, ever since that first night, you have technically not been in command every single time, I have." Technically this is true, when Seven first came aboard, Kathryn was in a coma followed by a few weeks of recuperation and I was the commanding officer during that time, I didn't officially pass back command until after Kathryn had shown up at my quarters one night and nearly blew my socks off into the vacuum of space. Ever since we've being playing secret ping-pong with official command.

"So, we just continue resigning the Captaincy to one another whenever I get horny and just hope for the best?" She scoffs.

"It's worked well so far and to be honest, it was a stupid, stupid thing that's derailed us, that will never happen again, ever, not as long as I live." I'm never drinking again and I will seriously be limiting my time with Tom in the future.

"But is it worth the consequences?"

"Absolutely." I reply without missing a beat, I stand up and make my way around her desk. "Completely worth it." I take her hands and bring them to my lips.

For a few seconds I lose myself to every memory of being with Kathryn, to the knowledge that the only reason we can't be together more is the Captaincy. How every encounter becomes farther and farther apart as she allows her self-imposed sentence of loneliness to win over her own happiness.

"Every second with you is worth every book they can throw at me, and it will be me, just as we decided, I was technically the commanding officer and as such, I will take the consequences and would over and over and over again, if it meant being with you." I kiss her hands gently and her eyes soften. "I've told you before and I'll tell you again, I will happily give up my rank to be with you but I know you don't want that, I know it's the Captaincy that is making you hold back, I'll do whatever you want, whatever it is that will make you really happy, but I think that's me, I think I make you happy and I don't want to lose this Kathryn, I don't."

Kathryn thinks for a beat before smiling and reaching up to smooth my hair, she lays a palm on my face and kisses me gently.

"Nor do I. You do make me happy, but this really can't interfere again, I can't let the crew down or be unworthy of their trust."

"You're not, they just want you to be happy, I'm sure of that. And after today I am more sure than ever that I want you, I want more of you. I want to be with you more as well, I don't want to just be a side note, I want to be an entire book and lately we just feel like an empty page."

She drops her hand from my face, smiles again before settling into her seat with her coffee.

"I don't know how much I can give, I still need to put this crew and the ship as my priority above my own selfish needs Chakotay, we've discussed this so many times, I didn't enter into this lightly… But I know I've been keeping my distancing, I don't want you to think I was just…using you… I was getting worried about…" She trails off, unable to finish and takes a sip of coffee. "…I was worried…"

"I was getting too close." I guess, and apparently, I was right as she nods and sighs.

"The fact is, doesn't seem to matter what I do you're always on my mind and it was becoming as distracting as I feared, I feared it was becoming too obvious, that we were being less than discreet." She admits, her face falling in sorrow and hopelessness.

"Kathryn, this is happening for a reason, you and me, we're meant to be. And I already told you I won't hold any decision you have to make for the good of ship is the priority and if that means sacrificing me, that's what you have to do, doesn't mean I won't love you."

Her eyes flare on my last words, I just said the one thing we've been holding back from saying, until now it's been a casual hook-up, well, as casual as it can be with that wildcat. Tom was right, she does go off like a firecracker in bed. We've ninja-ed into different quarters across the ship whenever the moment had allowed, whenever she had felt the walls around her weak enough to cross, but the last few months have been almost unbearable with the distance she's kept and it's only served to make me more miserable and lonely that I thought possible. To think she might let us continue to grow is something that fills me with a hope. Even if we are still sneaking around all the way back to the Alpha quadrant.

"Well Commander, I would say you can go and think about what troubles come with drinking and that if you were stage a minor mutiny in the guest quarters in about a week, I would be open to negotiations, but make sure it is a week, I want to make sure you're being punished enough but not enough to make us lonely."

I smile. My heart fills. My head hurts.

"I'll be there with bells on." She smiles at my words. "And I mean that if you lend me your Arachnia dress." I can't help it, it's who I am, the oaf with a dopey sense of humour.

With a smile and a nod she speaks "Dismissed Commander." She waves me out the room and I got to the Bridge to ruminate on the logistics of my affair with the Captain.

Tom smirks at me from the Helm and I can't help but smile back.

For an absolute shitshow, I wouldn't change a thing about the last day.

* * *

Authors Notes: I hope you enjoyed this and thank you to any who made it this far. Pat yourself on the back, have a cookie and think about what kind of story you'd like to see next. I hope you enjoy it and if not let me know what to improve on. Thank you and have an awesome day.  
Peace My Lovelies. xox


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